Break My Strength
by LoveIsNotForSinners
Summary: It gets bearable after a few days go by, it's easier. The nightmares aren't real anymore, they aren't happening all over again and no one's asking any questions. Until the nightmares become reality once again and he's not sure if hiding it would be smart but he might be a little scared. Sequel to Fallout.
1. Chapter 1

AN: This is the long, possibly awaited sequel to Fallout(which was a sequel to Silenced Wounds that you probably don't have to read either of). As for my excuse for the wait, there were family issues and personal issues and I didn't want to write something that dealt with something so dark to be honest with you all. Also, while I knew the plot of the story I wasn't sure how to go about it. Thanks to a much needed few hours of sleep my mind was able to concoct the first chapter.

This will disregard season 3B, so everyone is still here. It may possibly play a bit with the whole 'darkness around their hearts' thing that season 3A mentioned at the end. However, I might put my own little twist on that with what I see a 'darkness around your heart' to mean a bit. To simplify this...3B NEVER happened. Except for what happened in Fallout. Title is subject to change because I hate it, so if anyone has any suggestions feel free.

Summary: It gets bearable after a few days go by, it's easier. The nightmares aren't real anymore, they aren't happening all over again and no one's asking any questions. Until the nightmares become reality once again and he's not sure if hiding it would be smart but he might be a little scared.

Warnings: Nightmares, mention of rape of a child, possible triggers. I'll make sure to warn you each chapter.

* * *

It gets better, at least, they tell you it does. In fact, that's a lot of what Stiles heard his first few weeks of 'recovery' as he heard it be called. The word was tossed around between Scott and Derek, Melissa and his father, his father and his therapist but it doesn't faze him. They could call it whatever they wanted, that was the least of his problems. He was personally more concerned with trying to control the nightmares, trying to push away the memories and trying to pretend like he hadn't fallen apart only days earlier. He still gets them, the nightmares. He still dreams about words being spat at him, whispered in his ear. He dreams about warm breath and shaky pleads that go unheard. He dreams about loose grips and rough fingers trailing his body. He wakes up and looks around, still has to search the house when he's alone. He wakes up and presses a hand to his mouth, digs teeth into his tongue, trembles and cries, trying to silence it, hoping to muffle it behind his palm. He wakes up and stumbles out of his bed, looking for an unwanted visitor behind him. Every time his feet touch the floor he's not sure if he's searching for a demon – glad for the lack of physical pain on his chest, not in but on- or if he's searching for McCall, the man who took his innocence away, the man who ruined him, the man responsible for the nightmares.

He still fears the worst, still believes the words he's heard this whole time, ringing in his head, pounding against his ears. He still believes it's not over, he's not naïve, it can't be that simple. It doesn't feel that easy...easy? It wasn't all that easy either, he can pretend it is. Pretend he doesn't wake up sobbing, holding back a scream that's dying to be released. He can do that, that's easier because unlike before...there aren't really hands holding his wrist, there isn't another body – if you could call it that – on his chest, keeping him there, pinned to the bed. He can fake it because when it's just dreams, when it's just memories, it's not real. He can fake it because he sees the worry on everyone's face when they see him, the fear and the sympathy. The sympathy and fear and worry for him, for his sleeping habits, for his health. The sympathy and fear and worry because of him. He believed them – believes, he believes them...he thinks he does anyway, when they said it wasn't his fault. Even if they were saying it for him he believes them...believed...believes. He's not sure, not when he just wakes up, not when he walks the halls, not when he sits across from his therapist, not when he play video games with Scott, not when they talk about the supernatural, not when he falls asleep. He's never sure. He says believes, he tells his therapist it's not his fault but it kind of slipped out. There's a part of him, that part of him that know how to fake everything that's telling him it's still his fault but it can't be. He doesn't want to believe it is his fault anymore.

He yawns and rubs at his eyes, smoothing the covers down as he makes his bed, pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth to chew on it slightly as he looks to the bed. He tilts his head and turns, looking around, eyes landing on the clock. Scott would be here soon and he wasn't dressed, not that Scott cared, he really didn't. Scott's bike was in the shop, that was Stiles' fault. That without a doubt was Stiles' fault. Two days ago and it was definitely his fault. He had been getting gas, stopped on the way to Scott's from picking them up some pizza, Scott said they'd order but Stiles figured it'd be easier to grab gas beforehand anyway, instead of before school or, worse, before he got a phone call about an attack and had to drive to the reservation or school- a lot happens at that school, he's starting to think there might be something about that school. He would've broken down and had to run, baseball bat in hand as he tried to make it before anyone got hurt or died. It was a normal night, he was going to spend it at Scott's when he felt it.

_He had one hand on the nozzle and the other in his pocket, clenching and unclenching against his phone. It had become a habit when he was alone, he felt like he always needed the security of knowing it was there. It was a precaution really, what if he was attacked but a rouge omega? Scott saw straight through that lie but didn't press any further so that's what he was going with. He smirked as he remembered hearing Issac mutter how he was partially right because it was a bitch he was talking about. Then he felt that horrible feeling, that feeling of eyes on him, watching him, watching his everymove, waiting. He felt like he was someone's prey and he turned, looking around for something, someone. His hand pressed against the car as he looked around, leaving the nozzle in as his heart pounded he licked his lips when he saw those eyes and that smirk._

_His mouth fell open and he blinked a bit and then he couldn't help it, he panicked. It all rushed through him, he couldn't breathe. McCall was back, he was right there, staring at him, waiting. He hit the car and pulled out his cellphone. Scott could make it here in time, especially on that bike. He would make it here on time before McCall could even do anything, anything and surely he'd run if..._

"_Stiles?" _

"_Sc-Sc-" He couldn't breathe, he couldn't see. His vision was blurring his hand was scrambling for purchase against his jeep, his knees shook below him, giving out as he sunk to the ground. He wasn't even aware he was crying until there was a woman in front of him on her knees and the gas attendant asking if he should call nine-one-one._

Scott took that to mean something way worse than a panic attack occurred and he was on his bike heading towards Stiles before he could think. He wasn't paying enough attention to the road, trying to sense for his friend and contacted Derek or someone who could get to Stiles faster. Stiles hadn't known the exact story but apparently Scott had lost control, letting his bike skid away from him and into a tree but never stopping, he was on his feet and running. He beat the ambulance, which Stiles was grateful for because he's not a huge fan of riding in those things. He didn't know how long he sat there, unable to form words, unable to breathe but he knows it didn't stop until sometime after the EMT's arrived and he couldn't let go of Scott. When Scott asked what happened, Stiles whispered that he swore he saw his best friend's father and Scott went rigid. That night Scott and Derek searched the area for a hint of his father but they told him there was nothing and Stiles says he must've been hallucinating from an empty stomach. His father had been called to the bike scene and called Scott to ask him. Ever since then Scott shows up for a ride, even though they both know that Scott could make it faster on his feet. To be honest, Stiles doesn't mind the company, not after that hallucination. He kind of craves it, loves the concern he sees when Scott hugs him and squeezes, rubbing his thumb gently on his shoulder blade and sighing against him.

He shakes himself out of the thoughts and hurries to grab clothes to take a shower. Normally he doesn't take his clothes with him but he doesn't really want to drop his towel, unaware of his best friend climbing through the window like a true werewolf and both of them yelling and apologizing. That's a situation that's happened before and he'd love to avoid. When he comes back, he smiles when arms wrap around him, a sigh exhaled right by his hair as Scott's thumb moves across his shoulder the way he always has.

"Hey." He breathes to his friend before shimmying out of the hug to run the towel through his hair again and tossing it to the side of his room, deciding to worry about it after school. He hasn't eaten breakfast, which isn't uncommon for him these days. It seems as though he skips breakfast, pokes at his lunch at school and eats dinner. Scott makes up for it on the weekends, where they eat an entire house and a half...seriously, they eat everything at one of their houses then runs to the other. Issac, Derek, Ethan, Aiden, Allison and Lydia sometimes tag along as well. So, he guesses it's reasonable because they could be feeding anywhere from one to five werewolves, one teenage boy and zero to two teenage girls. It's weird to be part of something like this, when for a while it'd just been him and Scott. Sure, when all this werewolf stuff happened he knew it'd change a little but to have the pack of them all around him so much felt weird. He still hasn't really forgiven Ethan and Aiden but at the time he'd been so messed up, they'd been the least of his worries.

"I didn't finish my paper." Scott tells him sheepishly and Stiles outright laughs at him as the wolf blushes to his friend. "Do you think she'll mind?" Stiles shook his head, still laughing. "Stiles." Scott pouts and Stiles grins, the laughter ceasing slowly.

"You're paper isn't due until next Monday Scott." Scott frowns and looks down for a second before flushing brighter. Stiles just laughs again and slings an arm around Scott's shoulder. "God, buddy, where would you be without me?" He laughs and Scott shoves a cereal bar in his face. He frowns at it. "What the...Scott, what the hell?" He asks as he exits the house, his father already at work. The man had stopped by before he left and knew he didn't have to worry about Stiles going to school because Scott was coming.

"You didn't eat breakfast, it was this or an apple and our apples looked gross, there was no way I was gonna let you eat it." Stiles rolls his eyes and shakes his head, smiling as he takes the bar from Scott and rips it open with his hands.

"You're ridiculous but thanks. For not bringing me the apple. When I eat them the juices drip and it's a distraction, surely not safe to drive with." Scott snorts and Stiles hears the mumble about how Stiles licks the juices from his hand anyway.

"Yeah, well..." Scott pauses and Stiles raises a brow as he gets in the jeep, after a few minutes he encourages Scott to finish by asking. "You haven't really eaten since you saw..." He trails off. "You weren't really eating before then either but since then you haven't eaten more than a slice of pizza from the three you bought for gaming, a bite of potatoes at school and dinner with your dad, and two bites of pasta you made for me you and Issac." Stiles licks his lips and doesn't bother to ask how Scott knew that.

"Sorry," He apologizes and Scott goes to object but Stiles cuts him off "I hadn't noticed. I guess we both need each other huh?" He grins to Scott who smirks back. It's easy after that, like Stiles is fine and he knows Scott's just humoring him and he accepts the peanut butter and jelly sandwich from Scott and apple from Lydia at lunch. He smiles behind the sandwich and shakes his head. He had a really good friend sitting with him...really great friends.

* * *

AN: I know, you've waited so long and it's so short...it won't stay this short or this happy. Alright, so there are some details of this story I've been throwing around in my head so please, please let me have your thoughts. Jackson coming back, Danny finding out, Sheriff Stilinski still being under review? Those three are the only ones I can think of currently, anything else you all want to see let me know.

So this is my apologies for all feelings hurt.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: So apparently somewhere between the last time I've updated and now I've been cursed with bad luck. That's my excuse, I'm not going to get into it but I will tell you it's been a rough few months, luckily it seems everything is settling down and hopefully I'll be able to start up writing on a regular basis again.

* * *

"No, No, you piece of -" Scott gapes at the screen while Stiles cheers and high-fives Issac. Stiles laughs and tosses the controller to the side, stretching his arms and yawning. The sun had set sometime during their third rematch and it was slowly getting later and later.

"I should head home." Stiles says before sinking back into the couch while he watches Scott and Issac play.

"What? Why? It's only..." Scott struggles to grab his phone while never removing his eyes from the TV screen. "12:41." He says before licking his lips and putting the phone down, cussing at Issac.

"In the morning Scott, on a weeknight." Stiles laughs but makes no indication of actually getting up. He had a few minutes before he knew he'd have to hurry home to his father. The whole pack had started learning his father's schedule, comparing it to their own and to their parents in order to know when they could and couldn't hang out with him. He hadn't really known that was the reason they had perfect timing but he didn't seem to mind one of the betas or girls showing up at his house. When Scott finally beats Issac he jumps off the couch and shouts in joy while the two on the couch exchange amused smiles and Stiles rolls his eyes. "Alright, you beat Issac, I'm going home now."

"Do you have to?" Issac asks, leaning back onto the arm of the couch.

"Yes." Stiles laughs lightly, dragging out the 's' to emphasize his point. "We have school in the morning and I have an appointment after that." He raises his brow as though he's made his point. He doesn't need to tell them that she'll somehow know he was at Scott's all night, most likely his father telling her or even Stiles' own lips betraying him to inform the woman, and bring up his nightmares. He's been able to convince Scott they aren't that bad and that he's handling them and they only happen once in a great while but she seems to still think that's not the truth. Scott thinks they were only bad because of the demon, she doesn't know about that. He doesn't want to admit to her that he doesn't feel any better than before this all started, doesn't want to admit that his hands are always doing something when he talks with her because he's afraid they'll shake uncontrollably if they weren't moving. He doesn't have to admit any of that to her because there wasn't anything she could do to make these nightmares fade away. There wasn't anything she could do to erase the memories that are burned into his mind, that never actually went anywhere, that won't leave because he knows it's not over. Nothing is ever that simple, life isn't some fairytale where once things settle down they just stay, they just stop and they don't get worse they get better. There has to be something more, everyone's told him there was something more to come. Another creature to use this against him.

"What time are you going?" Scott inquires, tilting his head and furrowing his brows slightly.

"Right after school I'm heading over." Stiles finally pushes himself off the couch in order to grab his bag and sweatshirt that was tossed behind the sofa. "After that it kind of varies if she has a patient or not, they go over the time they're supposed to stop sometimes." He informs them, pocketing his keys, running his fingers over it while it's tucked away. "So I need to at least look like I slept." He grins at them. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"Alright." Scott finally says, nodding and Issac waves to him as he heads out. He shuts the door behind him and his eyes follow the tail lights of the car, blinker indicating it was turning before entering his car and driving in the opposite direction back towards his house. His eyes catch another set of tail lights in his rear view when he's a block away heading towards Scott's house and he furrows his brow. How many people in this town drove around at this time over here. He wonders if it's Tom who lives two doors down from Scott, getting off shift. He usually got home really late as well, Stiles always knew he was late when Tom pulled up before he left Scott's house and by late he means he would never make it home in time and he would be pulling up after his father, coming up with an excuse the entire way. His brain automatically starts to come up with reasons as to why he stayed at Scott's until 1am on a Monday night. He thinks a project would work just fine, or even something werewolf related now that his father knows. When he pulls up though the house is dark and the driveway is empty. He doesn't linger on the thought as he cuts his engine, pockets his keys and dashes towards the house before his father can pull up. He's showered and in bed by the time the front door opens, he smirks to himself and rolls over. He was golden. He tucks his hand under his pillow, drawing it closer to his cheek and temple, yawning and closing his eyes. It was a really long day and he was so glad to finally sleep.

* * *

"It's not really a big deal, it was one time prior and...I'm getting better." Stiles licks his front teeth, looking away from the therapist in front of him. He had wanted to talk to Deaton about it first, he wanted to make sure that it was all him and not something...else that was making him feel like that, making him think like this. He wanted Deaton to run through lists of creatures and what they could do and how to find them before he talked about it, before he brought it up and added onto the list of reasons everyone thinks he should be here. "I know it's not real and the dreams are fading, they're easier to ignore." He shrugs as if it's not a big deal, trying to defend it. She hadn't had a client before him so when he walked in, looking nauseous and panicked she had gestured him to sit and got him a glass of water. He said it wasn't a big deal, he told her it was just something while he was driving here. When she asked what he confessed he saw McCall again on the ride here. The word again seemed to pique her interest and make her curious about what exactly he'd seen before.

"I didn't say it wasn't." She tells him.

"Because it is, it's a lot easier and I know he's not...really there." He hesitates to admit it. Both times he had thought that McCall must've been real, that the guy had come to get him or...or something that looked like him had come to mess with their pack and knew he was the easiest target to get through. She hums at him, agreement in her tone. He runs his finger over the rim of the cup wondering if there was a possibility he was hallucinating the man being around because he was so strongly set on the guy being there. "I mean...I'm just seeing things that aren't there and I know that."

"Do you?" She questions quietly, genuine concern in her tone.

"Yes!" He says back, all but yelling before he slumps a little bit. "I think so. It's not like he'd come back..." He blinks. "I'm dealing with it, it's just sometimes it's a little scarier than others." He licks his bottom lip this time, squeezing the cup in his hands lightly. "I just think that it's not over, that he's going to come back and there's no way it was that easy to get over everything." He hasn't said it out loud before but to his ears it sounds so ridiculous to admit, confessing this was easy, that there wasn't a struggle to get to where he was now, where he was still a little broken and damaged and not really worth it. Not worth it at all. "Not that it was easy because it really wasn't." He tells her. "It isn't." He corrects, furrowing his brows and shaking the cup, watching a drop slide down the side and blinking as it collected at the bottom of the plastic.

"What happened the first time you saw him?" She questions and he looks up, meeting her eyes, looking to her pen that's resting on his empty form in his folder. The manilla contrasted by the colors of the stickers with his name on them place on the tab of the folder, with tiny white sheets of paper that could tell anyone of the nightmares in his head and probably half his life.

"I was getting gas, I was going to Scott's." He shakes his head. "There wasn't anything bad at all, I was just worried about running out of gas if something were to happen so I stopped and got some." He swallows. "I was a little cautious, I guess, that might have something to do with it but he was right there and I panicked, I...I couldn't think about facing him again, not alone, not on the way to Scott's house." He swallows, maybe he had worked it all up, maybe it wasn't something supernatural but actually and truly all in his head. Maybe he was losing grip on something he's held onto too tightly for too long. "I called Scott but..." He trails off, biting his lip as he recalls how horrified he was at the thought of that man being anywhere near him. At how he pathetically collapsed to the ground and basically sobbed without actually knowing that He was anywhere near him. He always had the upperhand, even when he wasn't in Beacon Hills. Stiles always gave him the upperhand. And he hated himself for it. "he knew I was scared, that's all he knew. Someone else called for an ambulance."

"How long ago was this?" She questions and he shrugs, not wanting to admit he hadn't told her in the past few times he'd seen her.

"Two, three weeks ago." He finally admits and he she nods to him.

"What about today? What were you thinking before you saw him?" She questions and he realizes she's trying to figure out his trigger because to her he's just someone hallucinating, she's trying to place his trigger to help him avoid it.

"I don't know." He admits, shaking his head and thinking. "I was on my way here so I was thinking about that but I wasn't really thinking anything in particular, there was nothing strongly there." He admits. He had been thinking about driving here and talking about McCall and knowing he couldn't really avoid it because that was the whole reason he was here. He had thought about heading to Scott's later. Could Scott trigger it? He was still a little guilty about the whole thing, felt bad for what he'd done to Scott. But Scott was his best friend and if Scott could forgive him, he could forgive himself. "Not until after I saw him, then I swerved a little, I didn't nearly panic as much." He tells her shaking the cup again and watching another lone drop make it's way to the bottom, slow and sliding over the ridges. He swerved and he shook but he was driving so he had to keep his focus. He couldn't get hurt inside of his moving car, he was safe right now, he could panic if he saw McCall again outside the building, then he could panic. He still hadn't gotten the image of the guy out of his head when he parked and he remembered informing the receptionist he was here and still feeling sick to his stomach, sinking to a chair and trembling until she saw him and guided him back. "I was safe in my car." He tells her and licks his lips. He hates these sessions, the ones where everything is out in the open, when he feels vulnerable. It's gotten easier to talk to her but sometimes he doesn't want to, not when it gets to strong. When it feels like his chest is going to cave in and he's going to lose hold of everything he has. "I'm going over to Scott's today, we played games with Issac until one last night." She looks shocked at how quickly he's changed the topic but she smiles and nods, letting him move on.

"How are they?" She asks instead, knowing they'll come back to it sooner rather than later but if Stiles needed time to relax, she would let him. They've gone through this a lot, usually when they talk about Melissa because Stiles starts to feel guilty and look wounded. A few times when she's got him to open up about the actual incident he back tracks and mutters about school after looking like he was reliving the moment, tense and scared. She had thought for a little while that he was going to leave their sessions behind but she was glad someone had convinced him to stay, especially now that she can hear he's seeing the man again.

"Issac's great, we got Scott really good the other day." She also is very amazed at how quickly he can shove back the pain that takes over his face in order to grin and explain to her something that happened that was off topic. She wonders how long he fought with himself to hide what he was really feeling and wonders how many times she misses when he's hurt. She doesn't know how as a kid, when it first started, he'd practice in the mirror. Figuring out how to make it as realistic as the real thing, doesn't know how hard it was for him to keep it together when his mother would call him out on it. She just knows he's good at it, she doesn't know the details of what the kid really went through to get here.

* * *

Stiles might be a little paranoid but he can't help but throw the two options around in his head as he lies in his bed, moving slightly in the quiet house. His window is open just enough to let in a cool breeze or allow his pack access if they were to need him, enough for their fingers to slip under and push it up. The sun had yet to completely set so there was still light in his darkened room, he had found this to be the first place to go after his appointment, trying to clear his head, maybe sleep off his thoughts. He moves again, drawing his legs up so his feet rest flat on the sheets of his bed, flexing his fingers as he stares at the ceiling. Could he be seeing things? McCall. Could he have worked himself up so much at the thought of that man coming back that he might've actually made himself see someone who isn't really there. It's only happened twice but he was so sure he was positive that who he saw was that man. He had no question in his mind that he saw that man. There was no hesitancy to believe that he saw, whether it be his own mind or the manipulation of someone else, he saw that man standing, driving. He rubs his fingers over his forehead, closing his eyes and furrowing his brows as he tries to get his thoughts together. He should've talked to Deaton first, he should've gotten any possibility of the supernatural out of the way before he told his doctor he might've lost any control he had on himself. He kicks his feet down, tugging at the sheets and letting his thighs hit the bed with a sigh. He didn't think he was that worked up about it but clearly he was if he was thinking this hard about it. He just needed to sleep, he'd wake up tomorrow and everything would go back to normal. He wouldn't tell Scott or the other's what happened on his drive to the office, wouldn't think about McCall any more than he has and he wouldn't let himself get lost in the idea that He was coming back. Even if He had every right to.

Stiles closes his eyes and rolls to his side, burying his face in the pillow for a second before turning it so his cheek rested on the soft fabric of the covering. If it happened again, he'd talk to Deaton see if there was anything that could shift or manipulate his vision. He inhales and exhales, keeping his breathing calm as he opens hi eyes to stare at the floor. If not, he always had someone to talk to, even if he didn't want to admit to this. This was just too much for him, this was...it was crazy. This was supposed to be over. He didn't want to think about this any more than he had to. He did a lot of thinking about it once the demon was gone, every time he looked at Scott and Melissa he couldn't think about anything else except how he's ruined their image of that man, of how he hurt them. And he knows he did, he knows he's hurt them. He doesn't have to fight that, it's a fact. He saw their faces when he told them...when Scott found out, every time they brought it up. He still can't look at Melissa without feeling guilty. He knows he shouldn't because they said they didn't want him to but...he couldn't help it. There was always something pulling at the back of his mind reminding him of what he'd done, what he never stopped. He almost freaks out when his phone rings, his heart jerking at the sound. He reaches for it and smiles softly at Scott's name, pushing himself to sit as he swiped at the screen to answer it.

"Hey." He says softly into the phone, rubbing at his eyes and smiling.

"Hi, you home?" Scott asks and he hums in response, answering him. "I was going to call you earlier but I didn't know when you got out."

"Yeah, I'm home." He tells Scott, shoving at his blankets and kicking his feet off the side of the bed, bare feet touching the floor. "What's up?"

"There was a fight at Derek's today, everyone is really upset so we're going to go catch a movie and dinner are you in?" Stiles furrowed his brows and rubbed at his temple. He didn't really have to ask who fought, Issac and Aiden were at each other a lot which always led to Derek and Ethan joining in. Stiles didn't blame them, he'd like to get in on the yelling sometimes too but after the last time when they broke Derek's window, you'd think everyone would cool it a bit. It got very annoying to watch Scott struggle to get the group to calm down and looking at Stiles and the girls for help, which usually started with shrugs and shakes of the heads, stating he was on his own right now.

"Yeah, yeah, sounds like a plan. Need anything cleaned up?"

"Derek and Aiden are cleaning up right now." Scott pauses for a moment. "I should probably head back in to go make sure they aren't fighting again." He says and Stiles snickers. "Issac's probably going to stop by your place so give him a ride back, yeah? We'll meet here and head over once you guys get here. Allison went to go get Lyd-I gotta go, Stiles, I'll talk to you when you get here." Stiles says his goodbyes before he laughs at Scott's yell towards the men fighting. Figures. He thinks as he pushes himself to stand, dropping his phone onto the bed and ignoring it as it bounces up once and falls back to the bed. He shreds himself of his sweats to pull on a pair of jeans and tugs on a shirt, rolling his shoulders and stretching.

"How'd the appointment go?" He hears as he jerks forward, shoving things on his dresser over as his hand scrambled for a weapon before the voice registered. His hand went to his chest as he looked over to the curly haired wolf, pursing his lips to hide his laugh as he raises his brows.

"Don't do that." Stiles scolds. "Do you want to be the reason my heart relocates?" He questions and Issac stays silent, waiting for an answer. "Fine, it went fine." Issac's eyes snap to his chest before meeting his eyes.

"Whatever you say." Stiles narrows his eyes at him before rolling them and falling to his bed to pull on his socks and shoes. "I didn't want to be at the loft any longer than I had to so I came to see how you were, you don't have to be honest with me." Stiles smiles and shakes his head, placing his foot on the floor and standing.

"Issac, that stuff is confidential, hence I can't tell you about it but it went okay. Nothing big happened at my appointment." Stiles says. "Now, come on, I have to bring you back to Scott so we can go out with the entire pack and make friends with each other." Issac 'mhm's as if that's the last thing he intends to do but follows Stiles as the young man reaches for his phone before shutting his window and heading out the door, down the stairs.

"After it?" Issac asks and Stiles sighs. "Before it?"

"Let it go." Stiles says with a smirk and Issac huffs but agrees to.

"Can you stop by the house so I can grab a new shirt with less blood on it." Stiles furrows his brows at the betas words before turning and looking back towards Issac, eyes snapping to the little blood spatter on the hem of his shirt and laughing. He nods and snatches his keys off the table, shaking his head and allowing Issac to exit the house first, following and locking the door behind him. He makes his way to the car and drives Issac back to Scott's, small talk between the two about the fight, mainly Issac complaining about the twins while stiles agreed pointlessly. He pulls up to the house and tells Issac to hurry up, Issac frowns at him but exits the car. Stiles stares at Melissa's car before unbuckling and exiting the vehicle, watching a car take off away from the house a few doors down and frowning, narrowing his eyes off it. Didn't the guy know about speeding limits? Sheesh. He jogs up to the door and sees Melissa cleaning up the kitchen.

"Stiles." She greets when she sees him and he grins at her.

"Hey, Ms. McCall. I didn't know if Scott called you but we're all heading off to the movies and dinner." He tells her, hoping she doesn't feel like she'd done something wrong like she told him when he first confessed to her.

"Issac said something when he ran up the stairs, thanks for clarifying." She tells him and he nods. "How're you?" He shrugs and tells her he's pretty good, a bit annoyed with the fighting but good. She laughs at his words. "I understand, the werewolves fighting makes too much of a mess that's why they didn't meet here today." Stiles grins at her words, seems fair that she told Scott not here if Ethan, Aiden, Issac and Derek were supposed to be confined in the same walls for more than fourty-five minutes, make that ten. Issac jogs back down the stairs, his face questioning Stiles. "Alright, you boys behave and I'll see you tonight." She tells them, both of the waving as screaming goodbye as they exited the house.

"I thought you weren't coming in?" Issac finally asks as Stiles backs out and drives towards Derek's. Stiles keeps quiet for a minute, hesitating to speak truthfully.

"Didn't want her to think I was mad at her." He tells Issac finally, voice a little quiet. Issac looks over and smiles softly. "I hope you grabbed cash because I'm broke and I doubt Derek will buy everyone popcorn again." Issac laughs and nods, pulling out a wallet. "Good, you can cover mine, sweetie." He teases.

"I'd love to." Issac teases back, letting his arm fall to rest, fingers outside against the car, listening to Stiles laugh.

* * *

AN: Alright, I'm ending it here. Again, sorry for the wait, hopefully I'll be able to get back to a normal pace soon. If I ever figure out exactly how to write what I want to write. Let me know if there's anything you want to see and if you liked it, or if you didn't. Criticism is deeply appreciated.


End file.
